[Authors Note: Took about 3 minutes to write. Stuck by sudden, rabid inspiration. Should probably get back to writing Love Painted Black. Damn writers block.]
Disclaimer: I ownz j00. But not Soujiro. Damn.
TO LOVE THE RAIN
Soujiro liked the rain.
It was soft at times, pattering against the ground like gentle fingers, swirling the dirt into mud and allowing the trees to drink their fill.
And other times it was powerful, pounding against the ground like relentless, stomping feet, sonic explosions of the unyielding thunder slamming against the sky. It was so majestic, eerie and strong, with the power to give life and take it away.
He loved to watch the sky afterwards, as the gray clouds slowly crept back across the sky and a multicolored rainbow appeared. He loved the feel of damp grass beneath his aching feet, the sweet smell of rain lingering in the air as he heaved barrels of rice to and from the rice shed.
It was comforting, and enigmatic. Who couldn't love the rain?
They didn't love the rain. They didn't love him, either.
Why did he have to be born into the wrong family? Why couldn't he be their real brother?
He heard them speaking of him, sometimes. He was their slave. They didn't even have to pay him.
They hurt him sometimes.
They hated him so much. They were going to kill him.
He had to kill them first.
Blood looked like rain, pouring from bodies and dripping down his blade, pooling on the slick, muddy ground beneath his feet. Thunder and lightning deafened him, rain chilled him to the very core, and tears blurred his vision as he smiled.
Soujiro hated the rain.
